Heir to Riddle

Chapter 3

( parseltongue looks like this )

Hayden sighed, propping his legs up on the opposite arm of the chair.

"Hayden, please take your feet off of the furniture," his father said, not even looking up. The six year old pouted, rolling off of the chair and shuffling over to his father's desk. He put his hands on the edge, peering up at the imposing man.

He wasn't really all that scary, though. Not to Hayden.

"Dada?" he asked, making use of his big, green eyes.

'Use what you have to your advantage, Hayden. Never underestimate your opponents, but let them underestimate you,' is what his father had told him, and he'd be damned if he didn't swivel around and use it on him, too.

"What?" his father sighed, finally looking up.

"Can I go outside? I'm booorrreeeddd," he drew the word out, tilting his head and pouting. The man gave him a stern look.

"Hayden, we've been over this many, many times." He put down his quill and looked at the boy. Hayden looked back, his eyes wide and curious as he stared into the ruby red eyes of his father, and was not surprised at Parseltongue spilling from his mouth. " You are not to go outside because there are- "

" People that want to hurt me, " Hayden finished sadly, drooping. "I know." His father lifted one eyebrow, sighing as he nodded. His gaze softened then, and he reached one, pale hand out to cup Hayden's cheek. The young boy leaned into it, happy at the affectionate touch from his father.

"I only wish to protect you, child," he spoke softly, in English, now. Hayden nodded, blinking up at him sadly.

"I know, dada," he murmured. His father sighed, beckoning him to the other side of his desk. Hayden hesitantly walked to him, only to be plucked up and placed in his father's lap. He blinked, then relaxed when the man tucked his head under his chin. His father sighed, lightly stroking his hair.

"I wish you could go outside, Hayden," he muttered, and the child smiled softly. "I wish it were safe for you." Hayden cuddled into his father, happy to just have him.

"It's okay, dada," he told him. "You're enough."